


Your Baby Ain't Sweet Like Mine

by Sparrow (hersilentlanguage)



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Carlos de Vil Loves Jay and Chocolate, Descendants Spooky Time 2020, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Halloween, M/M, Nonverbal!Carlos, POV Jay (Disney), mmmmmm chocolate, werewolf!Carlos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26889100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hersilentlanguage/pseuds/Sparrow
Summary: Honestly, Jay should be so lucky if it were Carlos’ impulse to bite the mailman, or hunt a squirrel, or swallow his steak before he could even heat up the pan, but no—no, it was never anything likethat.Carlos wanted chocolate, and he didn’t much care for Jay’s allegedly “dramatic” monologues about how dangerous it was and how he shouldn’t risk it, because—allegedly—Carlos “wasn’t some idiot.”Worse than that, actually, he was an evil genius.
Relationships: Jay/Carlos de Vil
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Your Baby Ain't Sweet Like Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Happy October! I've been wanting to explore the Werewolf!Carlos AU that lives in my head rent-free since forever and now it's finally time to set him loose in the world. After much consideration, I decided to write Carlos as nonverbal for this AU. There's not a lot of media representation for nonverbalism (especially positive rep), and as someone who's struggled with Selective Mutism as a complication of anxiety their entire life, it's something I'm very passionate to show is not a barrier to communication or any kind of illness in its own right.
> 
> One thing a lot of people don't seem to realize: nonverbalism does not _necessarily_ mean someone never speaks. In this particular fic, Carlos has no dialogue at all due to the situational context (he's feeling guilty and physically unwell, on top of the fact that the full moon is approaching and his transformation is something stressful for him). He'll have dialogue at other points throughout this AU (as you're reading, you'll notice references to several conversations he's had with Jay in scenes off-the-page), but just be aware I'm likely to continue characterizing him with a heavy preference for nonverbal communication.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this little ode to Carlos' immense love of chocolate (and Jay). I was inspired by the fact that there's going to be a full moon on Halloween this year, which means that werewolf!Carlos wouldn't be able to indulge in the festivities. The only time he's able to eat chocolate without any significant consequence is around the new moon, as that's when the wolfish part of him is less dominant (*magical science!*), but that involves deeply unfun things like waiting and patience, so... ;)
> 
>  _Side note:_ the nickname "puppy" is a headcanon I'm borrowing from @inertiazz (Tumblr), who proposed that calling Carlos "puppy" would be equivalent to calling him "baby," which I think is fucking adorable (and something Jay would love to use for the irony, given that his boyfriend is the _furthest thing_ from a puppy in this AU). 
> 
> **CW (minor spoilers ahead):** _self-soothing technique that may be interpreted as self-harm (i.e., self-biting, but not breaking skin); implications of cleaning compulsions; and minor swearing._

**Jaylight, 1:35 PM:** _done early_  
 **Jaylight, 1:35 PM:** _omw back  
_

 **Hellhound, 1:42 PM:** _kk_

“Puppyyy, I’m hooome!” Jay called with a laugh, half-stumbling in through the apartment door, his keys loudly jingling in his hand and his tourney bag slung heavily over his shoulder. “Hey, are you still studying?” He kicked the door shut and dropped his bag with a thump, narrowly missing his own foot.

“We should go out,” he continued cheerfully, unfazed by the lack of reply. “I’ll buy you a coffee, we can walk around the park, maybe pet a few dogs—whatever you want! Come onnn,” he practically pleaded, taking a few steps down the hall, “let’s just get out of—dude, why’s it so dark in here?”

Jay paused to let his eyes adjust, still seeing spots from the bright sun he’d spent the morning under; now, the only trace of it was spilling through the cracks of the curtains, drawn tight against the day—

“Are you taking a nap?” he whispered loudly, chuckling a little from the euphoria that yet surged through his blood. He half-expected to be shushed as though he’d yelled in a library, but when the silence persisted, he started to frown. “Carlos…?” He took a slow step forward, then paused again.

 _Was that—?_ “Uh…” Jay squinted into the shadows. “What… are you doing?” he asked slowly, tilting his head at the sight of Carlos laid out on his belly in front of the couch, arms folded in front of him.

(That wouldn’t be so strange except, as often as he vacuumed it, he claimed the carpet in their rental apartment wasn’t clean enough for Jay to walk on barefoot, let alone for him to lay right down on it.)

Next to Carlos, Jay observed a load of textbooks, neatly labelled folders, scattered pens and papers, and a large mug, all set atop the coffee table. The TV was on a few feet away, volume muted and blue light dimmed. Jay could have guessed the channel without even looking at it. _The Weather Channel._

It was _always_ the Weather Channel.

He turned it on like a lamp when he wanted the light, put the volume to zero, and looked away from the screen to whatever he was doing. Jay had never asked him why he did it, and Carlos never said.

It was just one of those things, and today was—

“Just one of those days, huh?” Jay asked casually, kicking his shoes off and nudging them toward the wall. “That’s okay, we can hang out here.” He shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. (It was sweaty, anyway. Needed a wash.) He was about to walk away from it when he heard a growl—

Carlos’ eyes were on him, lip curled up in warning, no soft edge of near-sleep from a moment ago. He stared intensely as Jay raised his hands in surrender, flashing a sheepish grin. “Right, sorry, pup…”

Jay bent to retrieve his jacket, quickly disappearing around the corner to where their laundry was.

When he returned, it was to neither praise nor acknowledgement.

Carlos had lowered his head and taken on that same sleepy, glazed-over expression as before; his eyes were open, but unfocused. He gave no indication that he cared, or was even aware of, the fact that Jay was studying him, hovering near the kitchen with a worried frown, deeply considering—

He’d managed not to notice it when he first came in, but now, even in the dim light, he could see them plainly: the pink impression of teethmarks riddling the length of Carlos’ forearms—

 _Human_ teethmarks, obscured by his freckles.

Carlos was gnawing at his own arm like a teething puppy, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to raw the skin if he kept at it long enough. Jay knew _that_ from experience, as well he knew that if Carlos was up to this behaviour again, then he was either nervous about his exam, or…

_He’d done something he shouldn’t have._

Jay’s eyes narrowed, catching on a scrap of something orange peeking out from beneath the couch.

“That _better_ not—” he started to say, before catching himself. (This was Auradon, after all, and what did Ben always say? Something about guilt before innocence—er, the other way around, probably.) “—be the time,” he continued, following an awkward pause and a gesture toward the stove clock.

It fell quiet for lack of response, Jay just standing there with his lips half-parted, wondering what to say that would get Carlos to admit his obvious g— _oodness,_ yeah—yeah, that was the word he meant.

“Hey, so…” Jay glanced at the clock again. “Did you have lunch yet?”

Carlos froze, then slowly shook his head, averting his eyes from Jay as he continued to gnaw his arm.

“Really, not even a snack?” Jay asked, taking a step forward with his hands in his pockets, trying to look casual. “I mean, no wonder you’re so tired, you must be starving.” He hummed a little, feigning a thoughtful expression. “Oh, man, you know what’d be _so_ good right now? Extra large pepperoni—stuffed crust, three cheese, breadsticks on the side, couple of sodas— _mmm._ ” Jay slapped his stomach.

Carlos whined low in answer, burying his head more in his arms when Jay raised an eyebrow at him.

“What, you don’t like pizza? Since when?” Jay pressed, taking a step forward. Carlos was quiet now, but Jay could see the guilty shine of his eyes in the shadows. “Are you feeling sick or something?”

Carlos whined again—a muffled, throaty sound, more embarrassed than apologetic.

“That’s weird,” Jay murmured, brows knit into a soft frown as he strode further into the living room. “Weren’t you fine when I left this morning? Said you were just gonna study, maybe go for a walk…” He stopped just short of the couch, crossing his arms as he stood over Carlos, who peered up at him through his lashes, teeth still half-sunk into his own flesh. _The audacity he had to look at Jay like that…_

_No one looked so pure and wasn’t guilty of something._

“It’s almost like—” Jay stooped to pick up the scrap of an orange wrapper he’d noticed peeking out beneath the couch, near Carlos. “—you ate something you shouldn’t have.” He flicked Carlos’ nose before straightening up, causing his face to scrunch in a way that Jay tried hard not to find adorable.

He wasn’t allowed to be cute until Jay was done being mad at him about this.

And Jay _was_ mad. Sort of. Like, at least 15%, rounded up from 13.4%.

(Wait, was that how math worked?)

_Whatever._

Jay sighed, suppressing every instinct he had to just say _fuck it_ and pull Carlos up off the floor, onto the couch, into his lap. He wanted to cuddle him until Carlos pushed away and insisted he was fine, didn’t need one of Evie’s remedies—just wanted some pizza—extra large, stuffed crust, pepperoni—

Instead, Jay let the wrapper flutter down atop Carlos’ head, and asked him flatly, “How much?”

Carlos didn’t respond, didn’t react at all until he heard Jay sigh and shift forward, bending to push the couch aside before Carlos stopped him with a scrabbling grip on his ankles. Jay glanced down, unimpressed, then planted his feet on the carpet, ignoring the bite of sharp nails digging in through the fabric of his black jeans.

 _Be more obvious,_ he thought drily, giving the couch a hard shove toward the wall.

SURE ENOUGH.

Trust _Carlos_ to have swapped out all the dust bunnies for _a dragon’s horde of chocolate wrappers._

“Lucifer’s sake,” Jay muttered, not wanting to believe that his precious idiot of a boyfriend had eaten so much literal _poison_ this close to his time of the moon. “Cee, we talked about this…” He ran a hand through his hair, stressed at the thought of Carlos having eaten all this in the brief time he was out.

 _It wasn’t even Halloween for another week, so where in the Beast’s name had he managed to get so much_ —

 _Shit._ “Half-Foods Market,” Jay uttered beneath his breath, squinting at nothing. He shook his head, glancing back down at Carlos with an accusatory stare. “You _said_ that was for the Isle Kids. You _said_ you ‘couldn’t even reach’ if I put it on the top shelf. Hades, how did you— _why_ would you even…”

Carlos made a noise caught somewhere between a growl and a whine, equal parts frustration and embarrassment. He grew more impulsive when the moon was waxing into fullness—not entirely himself at this time of the month, even before the fur and fangs and all the rest of it appeared.

Honestly, Jay should be so lucky if it were Carlos’ impulse to bite the mailman, or hunt a squirrel, or swallow his steak before he could even heat up the pan, but no—no, it was never anything like _that._

Carlos wanted chocolate, and he didn’t much care for Jay’s allegedly “dramatic” monologues about how dangerous it was and how he shouldn’t risk it, because— _allegedly_ —Carlos “wasn’t some idiot.”

Worse than that, actually, he was an evil genius.

And he’d gone so far as to calculate how much wolf’s blood was coursing through his veins on any given day, relative to the moon cycle and, in turn, how much chocolate he could ingest for the price of a killer stomach ache. He’d shown Jay the numbers on his scratch pad, tried to explain them and convince Jay that it was honestly safe, that he should trust him, that he was being careful, but—

Still, Jay insisted on telling everyone that Carlos was allergic to chocolate. _Deathly_ allergic.

(He always shot Carlos _a look_ when he said that last part.)

Not a lot of good it’d done, since here they were now, with Jay about to have a heart attack, because Carlos—little shit that he was—had just given him a look of his own (a “shy” look that Jay didn’t buy for a second—and why should he?); in the very _next_ second, Carlos was rolling over to expose his belly and, yes, _still more_ evidence of his guilt—still more fuel for Jay’s nightmare in daylight—

Jay sat down hard on the floor, burying his face in his hands. “You are the _worst_ boy,” he groaned.

Carlos made a soft, throaty noise of discontent, reaching out to paw at Jay’s leg until he cracked one eye open to peer at him from between his fingers. “I’m really mad at you,” Jay grumbled, though it wasn’t even half-true. He was just worried, and maybe a bit annoyed—yeah, maybe _a lot_ annoyed.

But _anyway._

He watched as Carlos flopped back onto his belly and began to wriggle forward, keeping his eyes on Jay as he reached up, pushed his knees apart, and twisted around in the space. He sat up and leaned against Jay’s chest, tipping his head back to stare at him as Jay slowly let his hands fall from his face.

“What?” asked Jay, raising an eyebrow when Carlos frowned at him. “I don’t know what you want.”

Carlos growled low in accusation as he grabbed one of Jay’s hands and placed it on his belly, moving it a little in a circular motion. He frowned more at the ghost of a smirk that played on Jay’s lips—

“Oh, your tummy hurts? Couldn’t possibly be from all that chocolate you ate.”

Whining, Carlos arched his neck to press up under Jay’s stubbled chin, rubbing slowly but firmly in a way that, Jay had learned, was his way of saying sorry when he didn’t have the words. He had _this,_ and—

_This was enough, yeah._

Breathing out a sigh, Jay relented and began to rub slow circles over Carlos’ belly, moving his hand up beneath his shirt as he worked. He couldn’t help but smile at Carlos’ contented noise and the way he leaned more into Jay—such a force to it that Jay rocked backwards a little before catching himself.

“You’re still the worst boy,” he teased in a low voice, causing Carlos to reach up and fist at his hair in retaliation. Jay closed his eyes at the feeling of Carlos’ fist uncurling to become a comb against his scalp. He was soothed by the touch as much as Carlos was soothed by a warm hand on his aching stomach. It was more than that, really, but Jay could never explain it, never translate all it meant—

He’d stopped trying, at some point—stopped trying to convince the world around them that these moments mattered as much as any conversation, that they _both_ knew the language of silence—

And they could say so much with their bodies.

Jay cracked a smile at the feeling of Carlos’ stomach rumbling and clenching beneath his hands. He opened his eyes, angled to press a soft kiss to Carlos’ temple, then whispered into his ear, “That’s your body saying no more chocolate until the new moon.” (Carlos huffed a breath.) “You think I’m joking, but just wait— _you’re_ gonna be the one explaining why the Isle Kids get corn nuts this year.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated! I'd love to hear your thoughts, but no pressure. <3
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for lots more Descendants content: [@hersilentlanguage](http://hersilentlanguage.tumblr.com)


End file.
